


Tricks of the Trade - Coda

by Like_a_Hurricane



Series: Tricks of the Trade [6]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: And the annoying thereof, F/F, M/M, Midgardian Press Corps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_a_Hurricane/pseuds/Like_a_Hurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Epilogue: A last, parting look into the <i>Tricks of the Trade</i> universe, and the lives of those therein. Also: an examination of synesthetic perception of magic, and having mercy upon the Midgardian press corps, if only a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tricks of the Trade - Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Pardon me for how long this took, but as promised, here is one last venture into this charming little 'verse I've been exploring. I will miss it, I think.

“You’re certain about this?” low and soft, the god of mischief inquired.

“Not particularly. What could go wrong?”

Loki considered. “It may bother you. Freshly-woken magic can be a bit volatile, like a static pressure on one’s mind. I think lack of sleep, a near-lethal amount of caffeine in one’s system, and jet-lag combined might be an apt description, from what I’ve seen of your behavior under the influence of such factors.”

“For how long?”

“Until you learn to understand and guide it.”

“I have some time off. Apparently if we want to even pretend to remain low-profile, it’s best that we lay low after that recent little announcement of ours.” Tony hummed, low and thoughtful, then stepped closer. “It’s driving me crazy, you know: all that I don’t understand about magic. I need an inside view. Light me up.”

Loki smiled, eyes sparkling mischief. “Let’s see, then.” He rested his hands on either side of Tony’s head, shut his eyes and reached out. It wasn’t as tricky to find the second time, but he still inhaled sharply when he hit upon the latent magic there. It felt sealed off, closed down tightly so it was hard to focus on, but it was very clearly _there_ , and clearly there was real potential in it. Loki’s own curiosity about it, what shapes it might take, was a thrill in and of itself.

Feeling an echo of the same tingling shock Loki got from contact with it, Tony shivered, and said nothing, trying to focus on where that feeling came from, to see if he could control it, but to no avail.

“Patience,” Loki chided, not opening his eyes. “This may feel strange.”

“More than it already does?”

The god of mischief smirked. “Much.” He set about scanning, mapping with his own magic, which sent ripples of interactive static through his awareness. He heard Tony make a small, thoughtful sound in response. Unexpectedly, the dormant and perfectly still, perfectly isolated and untapped magic, _shifted_. “What did you just do?”

“I was right,” Tony muttered. “It _is_ like having a new interface integrated into a neural network.”

“Is this about the devices you’ve been linking to a those little implants you were so keen to place on or in your skull last month?”

“A bit. It’s like telling muscles to work, without moving a muscle, and making something move anyway. People who are paralyzed and immobile can move a computer cursor, or a robotic arm-”

“I recall.” Loki smirked a little. “The comparison is apt.”

Tony slowly exhaled, feeling the static let up. “You’re stopping?”

“No,” Loki said softly. “Close your eyes, Tony.”

The engineer did so, a bit reluctantly. The intent, captivated expression on Loki’s face, a bit more unguarded while the god of mischief has his eyes closed, was a sight he could take in for a long while without getting bored in the least. Something flickered, deep red, edged in gold, behind his closed eyelids. “Did you do that?”

“Shhh,” Loki warned. “Just a moment... there.”

Tony’s muscles stiffened as he tried to classify the sudden burst of sensation. It reminded him a bit of being electrocuted, a bit of his college experiences with LSD, a bit of being caught in a centrifuge, and yet was very different from all those things. It was a power surge, and unfolding, rising and falling and rising again.

“Steady.” That voice sounded so distant. “Relax, Tony. It’s just woken up.”

Making a small, bemused and incoherent noise, the engineer felt his muscles relax and the frantic, explosive quality of the sensation began to calm along with it. There was a hum under his skin not quite unlike his arc reactor, but now it was all of him: in his bones and his very veins. It was a _loud_ sort of sensation. And there was cool, gentle pressure from outside, bracing him: dark green, clearly Loki. “I think you just gave me synesthesia.”

“Only a little, and that’s only if you go about trying to describe it.”

Tony nodded, making himself breathe slow and deep. Some of the dark green retreated and only then did he realize how far in it’d gone, reaching all the way to... to... “Oh. So that’s where it is.”

“Tony, meet magic. Tony’s magic, meet everything else,” Loki murmured. “You can open your eyes if you like.”

Doing so, the engineer startled a bit. It wasn’t that his sight had improved, or sharpened or gotten any more vivid, yet it sort of had. _No_ , he thought. _Wait_. “It’s... like an overlay. There’s what I’ve always seen and there’s an extra... it’s not that I’m seeing it, so much as feeling it but my brain registers it sort of visually.” He snorted. “Maybe it would’ve woken up earlier if I’d tried LSD more than the twice.”

“No. It was quite locked down. I had to foster some connections before it could be properly accessible to you,” Loki murmured, examining Tony’s face intently. “You’re alright, then?”

“Yeah. Buzzed, wired, disconcerted and fascinated: not bad at all,” Tony muttered, starting to grin maniacally. “Now, how do I do things with it?”

“You reach out.” Loki’s hands fell away from Tony’s temples to cup the air in front of him. Now Tony could see something there, around his hands from the palms and outward to the tips of his fingers: crackling green, then smoother, more deliberate. “And you touch.” And Tony could see them now: threads, seams, little creases in the world.

“What the hell... strings?”

“It’s all strings. Space-time really is a fabric, you know, in its way.” Loki smirked, and pulled at the strings with magic stretched out just past his fingertips. A burst of green flame appeared, a little conflagration from particles in the air, then he let go, and the strings drifted back almost to the same place, but not quite. “There’s more, of course.”

Tony grinned madly. “Tell me. Show me. What am I seeing?”

“Magic.” Loki shrugged. “Consider it to be akin to cheat codes for bits of reality. You’re just seeing the lines of code a bit more clearly, through the filter of your own understanding; the shapes of some things differ based on the practitioner.”

“But what actually is it? How do the particles of matter you reach out to respond like that? It’s not behaving quite like my scans showed and-” He stopped when Loki put a hand over his mouth.

“Metaphysical overlay. I’ve tried to explain. Now let me show you, now that you can really _see_ what I’m doing.”

A derisive snort from the engineer followed, but he smiled against Loki’s hand before it pulled away. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

 

~~

 

At some point in his time on Midgard, Loki had learned to play chess. He had been interested in the game enough to believe his daughter might enjoy it.

He was quite right.

After a few minutes of careful deliberation, Hel moved her knight to take one of her opponent’s pawns. “Check.” She glanced up at her opponent, smirking to see a furrowed brow over the woman’s dark green eyes.

Natasha had always excelled at chess, though she rarely played. She supposed herself to be getting rusty, to lose against a goddess who insisted this was only the fourth time she had ever played the game against anyone other than her father. Natasha believed her, mostly because she’d won against the goddess on her last visit, and from what she’d heard of Niflheim, it didn’t sound like the sort of place one could easily find another chess player. “You’re getting quite good at this.”

“Thank you.” She sat back and waited, watching Natasha consider her next move. They were at ease with each other, both of them tending to be reserved and calm with a veritable storm of calculative little trains of thought under the surface. “How is everyone _really_ faring lately?”

“They aren’t exaggerating the positive much this time. Overall, we are actually doing pretty well,” Natasha said, her eyes still on the board. The conversation didn’t bother her; she was used to conversing on top of strategizing, in her line of work. “Tony keeps doing the occasional disturbing things with the Space gem, but mostly in the lab, these days. I get the feeling he’s using it less during fights because on some unconscious level it seems like cheating.”

“How would that deter him?”

The assassin made a thoughtful noise. “Point.”

“Overuse of any of the Infinity Gems can have ill-effects on one’s psyche,” Hel said. “It can distort one’s perception and alter one’s personality.”

Natasha glanced up ceiling-ward in the general direction of Tony’s penthouse with a low hum. “That might be what they were fighting about last week. We’re still doing repairs to one of the larger labs because of that––not Bruce’s, luckily.”

Hel laughed softly. “There was a crowd, when I arrived. What was that about?”

“Loki decided to finally mention to the press that they’d ‘quietly eloped’ rather than have any big public wedding.”

The goddess laughed a bit helplessly. “I don’t recall much about those two days in Alfheim being _quiet_. Or non-public. It was in the middle of a harvest festival.”

“Yes, I believe that was half the fun of it for them.” Natasha moved a rook, taking Hel’s queen. “Your move.”

Now Hel contemplated the board.

“You spent the night this time, then. That’s new for you.”

“You weren’t back from your mission and you’re the best conversationalist here who isn’t in my immediate family.” She smiled a bit absently. “Your input and commentary reveals more than any of my father’s, given how well he knows me. Tony is generally a bit difficult to read––surprisingly so.”

Natasha nodded, smirking a little despite herself. “I’m flattered.”

“Also, I’ve been itching for a game, a bit.”

“I could tell.” The assassin shook her head slightly. “I’m surprised you haven’t taught anyone back home.”

“I am usually too busy guarding and guiding processions of the dead,” Hel said simply. “It comes with the territory––quite literally.”

“Did work slow down for this visit, or...”

“Freya lost a bet to me when I made a brief visit to Asgard while work slowed down.” The curve of her smirk and the glitter in her eyes were both familiar. “She’s more than capable of the work, and I trust her to do it. She has a sufficient honor streak that does not permit her to slack off on such matters.”

Natasha laughed, low and surprised. At times, given Hel’s apparent serenity and ethereal air, the assassin almost forgot who the goddess’ father was––right up until something amused her and that mischievousness appeared; and yet, she was very different, in many ways. Taking in the sight of her, blue and pale, green eye and grey-on-black, that smirk and those elegant long limbs, Natasha mused that if she hadn’t also met the goddess’ wife whilst in Alfheim, she would be all too interested in the lovely Hel.

“You’re staring,” Hel said.

“You’re pretty.”

The goddess glanced up, surprised enough that she smiled small and sincere and sans mischief, however briefly. “Thank you, Natasha.” Then she looked back down at the board, and moved a single pawn. “I’ll have my queen back.”

Natasha nodded, picking up the little black pawn that had successfully navigated it’s way to her end of the board, and replaced it with the black queen she’d just taken.

Clint strode into the shared living room, spotted them over by the window, and sauntered over, sipping from a large mug of tea. The large window revealed mostly grey sky, and rain, with bits of city only visible in much detail when there was some flicker of lightning. “How are you two lovely ladies this stormy morning?”

Hel looked up at him, looking deeply amused at the mere sight of him. “I’m well. I see you’ve recovered from the...” She gestured at her own ears pointedly.

The archer fidgeted. “Yes, the pointed ears are gone. And so is the habit of bursting into song during any sort of repetitive task. Thanks,” he muttered, low and petulant. “I’d even happily started to forget it happened at all.”

“Next time Loki bets that you can’t prank a group of people, you now know not to take him up on it, at least,” Natasha chimed in, reaching out and plucking Clint’s tea mug from his hands without taking her eyes off the board. She took a sip, made a low noise of approval upon finding it was a particularly good gyokuro, and handed it back.

“Especially not in Alfheim. They out-prank _him_ ,” Hel added.

Despite his grumbling, he tugged a chair over and sat down to watch them play as rain washed the city clean, rinsing away dust from their latest bout of heroics. They game went on quietly for the next twenty or thirty minutes, interrupted occasionally by banter, or distant thunder.

It was all peaceful grey morning falling into afternoon, the light still soft and stormy where it came in through the window, when the quiet was further interrupted by the chime of an elevator, and then the sound of two voices speaking very rapidly in terms that even experts in quantum mechanics and neurology both would trip over themselves to halfway keep up with.

Natasha looked up with her usual calm, unimpressed expression. Clint turned his head. Hel moved her other knight, then looked up and froze, her eyes going wide.

“What did you _do_?” the goddess asked, surprised and just loud enough to cut off the conversation between Loki and Tony on their way to the kitchen.

Both men turned to look at her, Loki looking quietly buzzed with enthusiasm, Tony looking tired but manic as he tended to get when he was working through some new discovery or new mad project, or both.

Natasha and Clint looked from Hel, to the lovebirds, then back to Hel with apparent confusion. “I’m missing something,” Natasha muttered.

Hel pointed at Tony. “You. Since when do you have magic?”

Clint and Natasha’s attention turned back to Tony and stuck there, curious.

“Wait, wait, our ultimate man of science and technology has what?” Clint asked.

The redhead merely raised an eyebrow in an eloquent manner.

Tony grinned wide and fierce and exhausted. “Apparently it was dormant. Now it’s less so. And I’m starving.”

Hel’s lips quirked into a small half-smile. “Used up some energy, then?”

“A bit. I’m new at this.”

Loki shook his head a little and took hold of his shoulders. “Come on. You need food before you pass out.” He smiled warmly at Hel and nodded at her, then offered Clint and Natasha each a more business-like nod as he pushed Tony toward the kitchen. “Good to see you all this morning.”

Then they were in the kitchen, their conversation starting up again, further distorted by the acoustics there, and the sounds of rummaging for food.

The trio at the window stared at the door for a long moment.

“So... magic?” Natasha asked.

Hel nodded. “He apparently has a bit of the gift, yes. It caught me off-guard.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with being within a five-mile radius of Tony Stark while he’s getting a crash course in spell-casting,” Clint muttered. “We get enough explosions just from the _science_ experiments around here.”

“Just shut up and enjoy the show,” Natasha chided.

“I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to clean up after it. Or try to dodge the larger bits of shrapnel, for that matter.”

Hel giggled at both of them.

 

~~

 

It took a few days just for the initial high of freshly-woken power to wane a bit, at which point Tony was able to sleep for the first time since the magic-surge experience. He woke up and felt that static pressure in his head, just as Loki had mentioned. His eyes squeezed shut tighter as he tried to make it either dissipate, or otherwise become less intrusive. It was starting to give him a headache and he really didn’t want to start off the day with a headache when he had so much catching up to do on non-magic projects.

Loki’s voice in his ear interrupted his thoughts. “Imagine it to be sound rather than physical pressure, then turn it into music,” he murmured, low and warm.

 _That’s a different angle_ , Tony considered, and stopped trying to shake off the buzz by brute force. Instead, he turned it into the intro of a random punk song–– _crust punk? What the hell, I haven’t heard_ that _in a few years_ ––which in turn reminded him of a different, less crunchy song. The static buzz, rough and nearly overwhelming, followed the tunes playing in his head, when he focused enough, conforming to match them as the music changed. Eventually he got it settled around a bit of obscure Finnish metal he’d caught Loki listening to the previous week, and at long last it settled there with minimal effort on his part, mostly-behaving: no longer too intrusive.

Opening his eyes a little, he looked at the window to find it still raining, and tugged the sheets a bit closer around them, smirking when Loki’s arm around his waist tightened a bit, pulling him closer. “Neat trick.” He made a low and appreciative noise when he felt the god of mischief’s mouth against the nape of his neck.

“It’s all wave-forms, I keep telling you,” Loki muttered.

“I’m learning,” Tony responded, feeling relaxed and warm and utterly disinclined to get out of bed. So he lingered. He was already behind, might as well add another hour or two, curled up under the sheets with the god of mischief.

“And quickly, as I suspected you would.”

“I’m a mad genius, remember?”

A hum of amusement, low and close enough that Tony could feel it all up through his ribcage. “Always.” Heavily implied was: _my mad genius._

“What was that band you were listening to last week? It’s stuck in my head now.”

Loki chuckled. “I have a question for you first.”

“Hmm?”

“What do you really think of it? The magic.”

Tony considered for a long few moments, and turned himself in Loki’s arms still pressed close, but now able to look into those brilliant green eyes. “It’s interesting, like you. It’ll take me ages to figure out all of its quirks, like you. It’s exasperating to reconcile with science, but I don’t care, because it suits me.” He pressed his forehead to Loki’s. “Also like you.” He smiled widely. “I like it, is what I’m saying. And I think I may wind up falling in love with it accidentally on purpose while studying it and learning to work with it.”

Loki snorted, but smiled widely nevertheless. “Like me.”

“Yeah. Like you.” He tilted his head and brought Loki’s chin up a bit with two fingers, in order to catch the god of mischief’s lips with his own. He felt and saw an increasingly familiar flicker of green. “I knew you had a spell to get rid of morning breath.  You’ve been using it the whole time, you bastard.”

Loki laughed, rolling Tony under him and settling over him comfortable as a cat in a sunbeam. “I can teach it to you, if you like.”

“Hmm.” Tony smirked, tangling the fingers of one hand into Loki’s hair. “Later.”

“Agreed.” The god of mischief kissed his throat. “Later.”

“C’mere,” Tony muttered, and pulled him down for a deeper, much more involved kiss. Loki hummed with approval, his hands moving over Tony’s skin, along his sides, skimming over his waist and settling on his hips.

The sheets fell away some time later, but by that point they were both generating more than enough of their own heat. Skin on skin, simple and close and warm and sweetly obscene, making them breathe hard even while they both moved slow and lazy, drawing it out: friction and pressure, low moans and shivers of pleasure. When at last true desperation caught up with them both, Loki slid one deft hand between their bodies, taking them both in hand, pressed against each other as he stroked, and as his teeth dragged over Tony’s lower lip.

Tony broke first, but not by much, given the way Loki’s name fell from his lips in a low moan, which sent his lover tumbling over the edge right after him.

They caught their breaths for a while, cleaned up, and curled up under the sheets again. After a while they idly argued about string theory and wave-functions.

“I recall you mentioning last night that this was meant to be a busy day for you. Out of bed, that is.”

Tony chuckled. “It can wait. You got any plans?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good. Now, tell me how your flame tricks don’t defy some basic laws of thermodynamics.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but obliged, tucked close against the mad engineer’s side.

 

~~

 

Of course, part of finally catching up with matters outside magic and the bedroom, included the press. They couldn’t eternally avoid the in-depth interviews from the magazine editors willing to fight one another to the death for the opportunity to corner Tony Stark and the still enigmatic Luke Lysmthe post-elopement. Hell, even before that, they had been chomping at the bit to corner Lysmthe for his first interview anyway. Add on the fact they’d denied every paparazzi on the planet a chance to snag a wedding photo, and it was time to throw them a bone before a riot started.

So they chose a magazine whose writers Tony had known for some while, and offered the olive branch, in the form of an exclusive interview.

Tony nearly lost composure altogether when Loki whispered in his ear, shortly after they sat down for the interview, and said, “The way she’s looking at us, I think she must be one of Jubilee’s fangirlish sisterhood,” just as the camera started rolling: video for promotional clips to post on the website, the rest for an article in the magazine that their interviewer, the charming Lucy Torres, worked for.

It proceeded less than smoothly from there, given how hard the mad inventor had to try not to laugh whenever they made the woman appear a bit flustered, which Loki soon noticed, and immediately set about exacerbating.

“Do you then live in the Avengers tower, Mr. Lysmthe?”

“Yes, much of the time. We do both travel rather frequently.”

“You don’t much mind Malibu, too.”

“It isn’t home as much, though,” Loki admitted.

“How so?” their interviewer asked. She was young, with dark hair and skin: petite but not thin, and softly charming in a way that might lull some people into a false sense of security, but both men seated across from her could see an intriguingly sharp intellect behind her dark eyes.

“I’ve grudgingly begun to enjoy the company of the tower’s other occupants.”

“Grudgingly?”

Tony smiled and subtly elbowed Loki in such a way that the cameras wouldn’t quite catch it.

Loki shot him a playful _I-know-what-I’m-doing_ glance. “My affection for Tony aside, my feelings concerning vigilantism, however heroic, started out very mixed. It was a point of contention in house, but I’ve rather changed my mind on the whole matter. All of the Avengers, whether acting in an unsupported vigilante manner, or aiding government and military forces, are heroes that I cannot disapprove of.”

Tony’s eyebrows raised a little. _Silver-tongue indeed._

“And what is it like now, living with the Avengers?”

“It’s never boring,” Loki said simply. “And it certainly helps that I have good reflexes, let us say.”

“No one’s shot anything at you in ages,” Tony muttered, not quite quiet enough.

“ _Shot_ at him?”

“He exaggerates somewhat, Miss Torres,” Loki explained. “The member of the Avengers known as _Hawkeye_ has excellent aim with all sorts of projectiles, and considers himself to be something of a prankster. I may have been the target on a few occasions.”

Miss Torres cleared her throat quietly, looking a little relieved. “Oh, I see.”

“You more than got even, though,” Tony jabbed. Then, in a lower undertone the lady wouldn’t hear, added, “Nice save.”

“I never said I wasn’t a prankster myself,” Loki mused

“That sounds like quite a story.”

“Classified,” the pair said in eerie unison.

“Okay...” Miss Torres raised an eyebrow at them, smirking. “What about you, Mr. Stark, what-”

“Tony,” the engineer corrected, smiling. “Call me Tony.” He visibly nudged Loki’s arm with his shoulder. “Stop using everyone’s surname, by the way. Sorry to interrupt, Lucy, please go on.”

Lucy shook her head at him a little. “Well, then, _Tony_ : how are you adjusting to married life as such a drastic–– _change_ from some of your former habits.”

“That’s a diplomatic way to put it,” Loki mused.

“You could ask Luke the same, you know.”

In a very low whisper, Loki warned, “Mention anything about a horse and I will harm you in ways that won’t be fun.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” Tony murmured back, picking up his glass of water and taking a drink.

“I do keep wondering what you’re whispering to each other.”

“Sweet nothings,” Loki said, causing Tony to half choke. With a patronizing air, Loki smiled brightly and pat him on the back firmly as he coughed twice and turned his head to glare at him.

“So––may I call you Luke?”

“Of course. I’m formal by habit, due to my profession, but casual is preferred.”

“Bullshit,” Tony said.

“Well, I happen to know you enjoy my formality for various reasons,” Loki said, his voice polished, smooth as silk: the softly regal sort of voice that could take even a seasoned diplomat’s breath away.

The engineer shot him a look. It was not a discouraging look.

“Luke, then,” Lucy said, sounding professional and crisp, even as her face heated a little. “You were also an infamous playboy, then?”

“Not in such a way that I made it into any magazines, but Tony and I were of... similar proclivities. We didn’t start off serious.”

“Though it was seriously good.”

“Of course it was,” Loki responded, a bit of a purr in his voice.

“Your modesty truly astounds us all,” Tony mocked.

“You’re one to talk, sweetcheeks.”

Tony gaped at him for a moment, then cracked up, slumping in his chair. “Fuck you, what the Hell, Lok––Luke you son of a bitch,” he managed to wheeze, through his laughter. “Oh god. This is what we get for all of the pop culture we tried to expose you to.” He swatted at Loki’s shoulder.

Loki caught his wrist easily, grinning like the devil himself. “Come on, Tony. Do pull yourself together.” He used the formal voice again, to add insult to injury, kissed the back of Tony’s hand, and let him go.

Tony swatted at him again with a snort, but sniggered nevertheless.

Covering her mouth with one hand, though it did little to hide her giggling, Lucy too tried to regain her composure. “I take it that’s not a usual nickname, then.”

“It’s one _I_ use-”

“On almost anyone with two legs, usually to annoy them,” Loki interrupted.

“Minor details.” The engineer waved it off.

“Do you have any pet names at all, then? I have to ask, as it’s one of the most ridiculously common queries our readers sent in.”

Tony shot Loki a thoughtful look. “Well, as he pointed out, I use pet names for just about everyone-”

“Wasn’t ‘Rock of Ages’ one of them specific to me?”

The engineer snorted.

“I’m not sure I get it,” Lucy murmured.

“He had longer hair, like he’d fallen out of a rock opera,” Tony muttered, not looking away from Loki’s face. “Come to think of it, the closer we got, the fewer creative pet names applied. At some point they stopped altogether, except calling you ‘darling’ on occasion. Or ‘love’ if I’m making fun of your accent.”

“What about you, Luke?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m not too partial to giving people such creative appellations,” said the god of lies. “Though I’ve been known to use ‘darling’ and on special occasions ‘my love’ as well.” He smiled widely as he noticed just a bit of color rise to Tony’s face.

“Quit stealing the spotlight with your sex appeal,” Tony muttered, again a bit too quiet for the interviewer or the microphones to catch.

“Just try and stop me,” Loki challenged.

Tony shot him a matching evil grin, then.

Lucy felt suddenly that this interview was escaping her control. “Well,” she said quietly. “Speaking of questions from our readers and your fans: how did you two originally get together?”

They turned to face her again, more composed, predatory streaks politely retracted like a cat’s claws.

“It was a business matter. I required a few particular resources Tony was uniquely able to create, and was willing to cover the costs of manufacture. Nothing like weapons, of course: building materials for a bit of infrastructure. Further details are classified, of course.”

“It was a pretty big project, and challenging enough to keep my interest.” He looked at Loki sidelong, gaze flicking up and down to take in all of him. “Rather like you.”

It was Loki’s turn to remain quiet in response, his expression suddenly masked, though his eyes narrowed where he held Tony’s gaze.

“It’s true,” Tony assured, then turned his attention back to Lucy. “We’d met before, and hadn’t precisely got on, though I did like his sense of humor a bit more than I probably should’ve.” Seeing Lucy’s questioning look, he further explained, “Well, the very first time we met was on opposing sides of a––complex diplomatic affair you might say. He might’ve tried to throw me out of a window.”

Loki snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t interrupt.

Tony’s smirk widened. “Then he just strolls into my lab and offers me a business deal months and months later. I had to admire his hutzpah, for that.”

“Hutzpah?” Loki asked.

“Yiddish,” Tony said. “Impudence, shameless audacity...”

“You mean everything I’d started out accusing you all of before the window incident?”

“Yes, actually,” Tony mused. “I stand by applying it to you then. Especially given that you hadn’t been on the winning side of that diplomatic incident.”

Loki snorted. “Such a polite way to put it.”

“Anyway. I took on the challenge he laid out and we, ah, got on well.”

“Speaking of previous habitual promiscuity,” Loki clarified. “That would be an example, one might say.”

Lucy coughed quietly. “Well, then. How did matters change after that? How did it go from a––casual affair to a rather more serious one, as it were?”

The mad genius and the god of mischief exchanged looks eloquently, not even needing to mutter to one another this time.

“Well,” Loki murmured, “it’s not often I meet anyone capable of really keeping up with me in so many ways: intellectually, conversationally, sexually, and so on. I realized at some point that I was rather inclined to keep him.”

“Same,” Tony said, low and thoughtful. “I’d never hated the thought of a deadline more in my life, I don’t think.”

“Deadline?” Lucy asked.

“The completion of our project,” Loki clarified. “After which it seemed likely that we would most likely part ways again.”

“What happened to change that?”

Loki dropped her gaze, shaking his head even as he smiled a little. He then shot Tony a sidelong glance, expectant and droll. _You want the spotlight, then it’s your turn._

“I may have almost died. It seems to be a habit of mine,” Tony admitted. “Though I’ve had help in breaking that habit of recent.” At that, the god of mischief’s mask cracked for just a moment, with something warm and bright this time, just briefly, and Tony was thoroughly distracted by the sudden urge to kiss him until neither of them could speak.

Loki rested his chin on his fist, staring at Tony thoughtfully, fully aware of why the engineer had gone a bit quiet. “You terrified me that day, you know, which is not an easy feat, nor does it happen very often. It’s even less common for me to admit to having been caught unawares by something I should’ve noticed far sooner.”

“Well you did,” Tony muttered. “You just didn’t realize you’d showed your hand.”

“Neither of us did.”

Lucy actually rolled her eyes at them. “You know I have to ask what on earth you’re going on about now.”

“He gave me a gift, you could say.” Tony grinned wide and sharp. “A big one. I didn’t realize it though.”

“Classified, incidentally,” Loki interjected.

“Saved my life, and didn’t even warn me of that little side-effect, you complete bastard.”

Loki smirked back at him. “You knew that from the moment we met.” He then chuckled. “I suppose insofar as pet-names go, that’s as close as we really get.”

Tony laughed helplessly. “Case in point: complete and utter bastard.”

“Do you know what made me terrified about your near-death?” Loki asked.

“It was more specific than being in love with me?”

“That was the final conclusion, not the first spark of realization.” Loki leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. “I realized that I was happier with you than I could ever recall being, since I was child.”

Tony visibly stilled, staring at him and smiling, slow and warm and sans masks entirely. “That’s what made me hate deadlines; because I was going to lose that. And I resented you for it a bit. You were supposed to be the enemy and you just walked in and spent all that time in my lab being fucking amazing at me.”

“And with you. And to you,” Loki added, smiling wider. “You weren’t bad yourself.”

“Thank you-” he caught himself just before saying _god of lies_. “-darling.”

Loki laughed a little, eyes sparkling, knowing.

“I take it the both of you are happy, then, settling into married life?”

“Yes,” Tony said, at the same time Loki said, “Absolutely.”

Lucy smiled helplessly at them. “You two are unfairly good together.”

They looked away from each other again to face her, smiling like wolves.

“Oh, we know,” Tony agreed. “Trust me, we know.”

“Playing fair was never entirely my strong point, but I’ve help in that department, recently––if only a little,” Loki added.

“You liar. I’m a terrible influence, and you know it.”

“No more so than I,” said the god of mischief.

“I think we’re good for today. There are several more items on my list here, but I think most of them have been alluded to already. I know you two could doubtlessly banter away for another hour or two, but I think we already have sufficient footage to lure in enough viewers and readers to potentially crash our servers,” Lucy mused. “Though I have to ask one more thing.”

“Fire away,” Tony prompted.

“Will we ever see you both as members of the Avengers, even in the distant future?”

Loki gave an abrupt laugh, clearly caught off-guard. “I seriously doubt it. I’m far from the hero type.”

Tony said nothing, and only winked at the camera, smirking fit to make the nearest camera man blush.

“So you won’t get your own suit of armor despite having married Iron Man?”

“That’s two questions,” Loki chided, “but the answer is no.”

“I offered,” Tony protested. “He declined.” It was on the tip of his tongue to mention horned helmets, but he resisted, with an effort.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Lucy said, standing to shake their hands. “It’s been... enlightening.” She sounded deeply amused.

“Enlightenment isn’t usually my specialty. I’ll have to add it to the resumé,” Loki mused as he rose to his feet to accept her handshake, causing Tony to bite his tongue to keep from sniggering.

“Along with being a silver-tongued and ruthless negotiator?” the engineer couldn’t help but add. “Really, you know, it’s a pity he works in such secretive circles; he’s as much a showman as I am, in his way.” He rose to shake her hand, then drew her in for a brief hug. “Good to see you well, Lucy. It’s been a long while.”

She shook her head at him. “And I don’t even have to turn you down this time.”

“I’m not on offer,” Tony said with finality, retreating to Loki’s side, their arms touching just slightly. “My best to your partner. I hear she’s doing well in Hollywood.”

Lucy smiled more warmly then. “She is, thank you.”

The cameras at last stopped rolling and the crew began taking down the sound and video equipment. Loki took hold of his lover’s tie and tugged him closer with it. Tony met his gaze and smiled, tilting his head up to meet Loki’s kiss, slow and full of barely-restrained want that burned with promise of far less restraint in the near future.

“Silver-tongued, Tony? Really?”

“We’ll hear squeals from Xavier’s mansion, miles away or no, I think.”

Loki shook his head. “Now who’s baiting the fan-base?”

“Both of us. Obviously.” He didn’t even blink when a camera flashed in their direction. When Loki glanced sidelong toward the source, Tony chidingly added, “Case in point.”

“Mayhap.”

“I have to take it out on someone after you baiting me in the interview. You’re such an ass, I swear.”

“Oh?” Loki inquired. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re a marvelous liar,” Tony said, “but I knew the lies. It was hearing you tell those flashes of truth that have me wanting to have you right here, cameras be damned.”

“You do have me. Location notwithstanding.”

“Tease.”

“What’s that charming mortal saying... something about a pot and a kettle?”

Tony shook his head at him, laughing.

Another flash from the photographer several feet away. They ignored him.

“Let’s go home,” Loki said softly.

Tony nodded. “Home, yes. It’s good to really have one, you know. Particularly with you in it.”

The god of mischief smiled, masks dropping away entirely this time. “You are my home, Tony. You must know that.”

“I do,” he said.

They managed to exit the room, arm in arm and smiling with casual mischief any people as they passed, and rounded a corner, getting just out of sight before they gave in to temptation and vanished in a puff of emerald smoke.

Lucy didn’t see the smoke, staring after them and shaking her head. “What do you think, Mike?” she asked the main camera man.

“I think they’re terrifying, but brilliant. And I’m glad I’m comfortable with my masculinity enough to admit they have some serious sex appeal.”

“Oh, honey, I know. I don’t even like men and I could watch them all day,” Lucy shot back. “I meant past that.”

“I’ve never seen better liars.”

Lucy snorted. “They seemed pretty honest to me.”

“Oh, they mostly were, which is why I say they’re great liars.”

The interviewer considered. “I suppose you’re right. And that ‘classified’ excuse––admittedly it’s pretty ingenious.”

“Were you in town for that alien invasion the Avengers fought off?”

“Which one?”

“The first one.”

“Well, yes, but nowhere near the heart of the chaos. Why?”

Mike was good with cameras because he had a good eye for little details. He also had a pretty good memory, almost photographic. He looked down at Lucy and smirked a little. “I was real close up. Got a good view of a lot of it.”

“Okay. Still doesn’t quite answer my question: how does that relate to those two?”

Considering the pair she’d interviewed, the careful way they spoke of how they’d met, how at ease they clearly were and how not-totally-off-his-rocker each man had been, Mike just shook his head slowly. “No reason.” _Classified_ , he thought, recalling where he suspected he’d glimpsed Luke Lysmthe’s face once before, a long time ago. Clearly, a lot of things had changed since then. “Just thinking of the Avengers and how ‘classified’ they usually _aren’t_ , in some cases.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “You’re weird, you know.”

“Yep.” Mike grinned at her. “And I’m not the only one content to remain so. Live and let live, I say.”

“You sound like them. You’re thinking of something. What is it?”

Unable to resist, he finally said, “Classified.”

“You liar.”

Mike only grinned wider. _Precisely._


End file.
